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As I stared around the cold, dark room, my eyes came to rest on a small pile of blankets in a corner. “Hello?” I directed my question to the pile of blankets, having seen no other place where a human might be. I was so sick of being summoned by old men withering away in jail cells begging to be pardoned for their crimes, but it did bring me a sense of joy (I think that’s what the feeling is called) when I informed them that I did not have that power and I looked forward to their eternal torment soon.

“You came!” the pile replied in a small, quavering child-voice. I sighed. We had all had the same speech at “So You Want to Be a Demon”… if you get summoned by a child, scare them into behaving and leave. Sin doesn’t work the same way for them as it does for adults and that’s not our job, blah blah blah. That being said, I had never heard someone sound truly excited to see me before.

The pile seemed to shiver, and as I moved closer, I could see a small face, with tear streaks of clean skin on a grubby face. It was, I supposed, cute… in a small, dirty kind of way. “Why have you summoned me, human?” I stuck to the script. Better to play it safe.

“Before mommy went to live with the angels, she said that if I ever needed her, I should pray and she would send one of her angel friends to help me. I’ve been asking for a really long time,” the weak little voice said, barely speaking above a whisper “and I’m glad you came even though you don’t look like the pictures.” I really had to have a word with dispatch when I got back. This was the third time this week that we’d been sent to a call that was meant for the other side. “Do you know my mommy?” I could see the tears forming in the eyes that watched my form from a pale, gaunt face. “I do not know your mother. What do you need from me, little one?” I might as well stay. At least I wouldn’t have to go answer that serial killer (again) if I was busy. “Mommy told me that the was a bad place where I would go if I was bad. She said that when she went on her trip to the angels that I should be the best for auntie and uncle or else so might go to the bad place. She said it was full of fire and it was where all of the bad people go instead of to the angels.” Well, that explained the crying. The mother was dead, and I could not give the child a contact or even a reassurance that “mommy” was with the angels. Maybe I could still finish the job and make it back before lunch… “I am from the bad place” I started “and you should be good for your auntie and uncle because your mommy said to.” There, finished. Now I just had to wait for my “return” button to appear and I could be done.

“But,” more tears, the child was absolutely sobbing now, blankets quivering with each fresh gush of tears “but what if I was only doing a very bad thing because auntie and uncle told me to? Does that mean that I still have to go to the bad place? I want to see my mommy!” This one was going to take a while.

As I sank to the floor in front of the blankets, I heard a loud thud from above us, followed by a clank and a clang. As I listened more intently I could hear voices. “It’s time for that worthless kid to learn to do what I want, when I want! Your disgusting sister had to go and dump it on us to feed and clothe.” More thuds, “… time to earn something for us.” As I turned back to the blankets, to my surprise, the child had seemingly disappeared. The blankets were still shivering slightly, and if I sniffed, I could smell the damp, decay, and urine that wafted up from them. “You should hide too. He might hurt you” came a vey faint whisper, thick with tears and fear. “Don’t hide with me. He always finds me.”

As I heard the clicking of seven locks being undone with a key, I discovered that I could still feel rage, fear, and sadness. As heavy boots descended the stairs, accompanied by the sound of metal, I shifted and merged into the blanket pile, giving the child as much warmth as I could. “Get out here, you disgusting pig. I can smell your stink from here” came a voice that far crueler than any of the murderers, serial killers, and other sickos that I’d dealt with so far. “You know it’s time for your lessons.” As a hand reached into the blanket pile, through me and grabbed the crying child by the arm, I saw the hope fade from the terrified eyes.

“Bye angel” came a tiny whisper, as the man hauled the tiny body up and away from our cover.